


so it goes

by nite0wl29



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Tags will be added as we go, author has a slight obsession with Cardan's tail, cause tagging is hard!, so tail kink will be a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nite0wl29/pseuds/nite0wl29
Summary: Five months ago, Jude left her home in Elfhame for the mortal world to start anew with her sister Vivienne. Not only does she struggle with accepting who she is inside, but she also learns to accept she may never find her absent soulmate. That is until he shows up at her doorstep, needing advice about her father, and has her become his future wife’s handmaiden.Of course, in addition to having to save an entire kingdom, falling in love with Cardan Greenbriar is exactly what Jude didn’t need in her life.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar, Vivienne Duarte/Heather
Comments: 49
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely didn't need to start another WIP. But after reading the Folk of the Air series I just couldn't resist writing these two idiots!! There's going to be angst. And fluff. If you're familiar with my other stories, though, you know I can always guarantee a happy ending after the hurt. <3 So, here we go!! 
> 
> Come bug me on [Tumblr](https://nite0wl29.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nite0wl29). As always, your kudos and comments are always cherished!!

Jude awoke with a start, her pulse racing as she sat upright in bed. Daylight was filtering into the room through a window shade to her right. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee, and dirty clothes littered the carpeted floor. There was no terrace that overlooked breathtaking scenery. No floors and walls made of stone. And no Tatterfell on hand to ensure she was up and ready. 

In the small town of Bar Harbor, Maine, Jude shared a single-family apartment with her older sister Vivienne, and Vivi’s girlfriend Heather. Her bedroom was minuscule in size, hardly big enough to accommodate furnishings beyond a futon and a bureau of drawers. Shabby-white paint colored its walls with minor scuffs along the baseboards. 

_It’s not Elfhame. You’re not in Elfhame anymore, Jude._ She’d traded her place among the fae (or lack thereof, should she say) for the mortal world months ago—five months, to be exact. However, some days, she felt as if she had never left. 

Jude sighed, palming her eyes, the tightness in her chest ebbing a little. 

The nightmares had never been so vivid. Like she was living those moments all over again. The servant girl from Hollow Hall, Sophie, was a constant presence in her dreams, haunted by the sheer panic in her eyes, begging Jude to leave her be. If she had just listened to the girl’s protests, perhaps Sophie would have lived, albeit living as a mindless slave to Prince Balekin. On the other hand, dying a death of her choice did sound more appealing compared to what Balekin might have had in store for the young servant girl when she’d no longer be of use to him. Still, the weight of her loss lain heavy on Jude’s conscience. 

Then came visions from the night of her parents’ murders. And the night Valerian had attempted to kill her, only for Jude to kill him instead. _May your hands always be stained with blood,_ he’d hissed. _May death be your only companion._ What more did she expect when she was raised by her parents’ murderer? Someone who fancied war and harbored an insatiable thirst for blood. 

It seemed she had already been cursed long before Valerian insisted on cursing her, himself. 

Back in Elfhame, dreams were the least of her problems, and they would have blended in seamlessly with the usual chaoticness that was her everyday life as a mortal residing in a mystical realm of immortal creatures. But here, most often than not, it was as though she were experiencing the dreams of someone else, dreams of loneliness and immeasurable pain that wasn’t her own and yet she felt it deep in her soul. She hated that it was Cardan’s voice she heard, sometimes, in those dreams, reciting her name over and over, angrily. Like she’d found it scribbled on that leaflet of paper inside his _Alice in Wonderland_ book. 

Gods, she hated him so much…

She hated how easily she let him get under her skin, while she lived here and Cardan there. Two worlds separated by an invisible veil. One would have thought five months was plenty of time to forget about the person whose only mission in life was to make her miserable. She hated that she missed outshining him in class, and that cheap thrill she got whenever she beat him in sparring. Not that it was hard. He sucked at it, really. 

Most of all, for absolutely no rhyme or reason, she hated the fact she was thinking about him before she’d even climbed out of bed. 

As of late, thinking about Cardan was a far worse habit than biting her nails, harder to break, a sickness that refused to leave her system. And she knew he hated her as much. If not, more. 

Hopefully, it was just a phase. Sort of a ‘midlife crisis’ for those passing into early adulthood. It was her eighteenth birthday, after all. The transition from adolescence to an adult could have been playing a part in it. Hormones, they had a tendency of being a bitch every so often. Once they hit their peak, your body would spiral out of whack, making you think and do weird things. 

At least, telling herself that soothed her anxiety about those dreams of her sworn enemy...

Swiping a stormy-grey knit sweater from a pile of clothes, closest to the foot of her bed on the floor, Jude pulled the garment on over the white tank top she adorned with black leggings. Its bottom hem came down to just above her knees, extra large and baggy. She’d found it on the clearance rack at Target about a week ago: Vivi had convinced her it was okay to buy clothes that weren’t second-hands from Goodwill or Salvation Army. Which was fine, but money was already tight. And the odd-end jobs she acquired from Bryern - a fairy in the mortal world who resembled a goat with pitch-dark fur and hooves, and who she’d met a couple weeks after leaving Elfhame - barely covered their monthly expenses as it was. 

Vivi wasn’t aware of that though. 

For all her sister knew, Jude had been pulling night shifts at the Citgo off Main Street instead of keeping fugitives and those banished from Elfhame in check. She’d become exceptionally good at telling lies and making others believe them over the years. Madoc. Oriana. Taryn. _Herself._

Pulling her hair back into a messy bun with the hair tie she found next to her dagger, atop of Cardan’s _Alice in Wonderland_ book on the bureau, Jude padded out of her dim bedroom to the brighter living space. She saw Vivi lounging in the recliner, catty-corner from the sofa, wearing checkered flannel bottoms and a white thermal V-neck with coordinating fuzzy socks, engrossed in some cheesy talk show on television and nursing a mug of green tea. Perfect for bumming it on a crisp November morning. 

Noticing her company, Vivi’s cat eyes shifted from the television screen to her sister. “Hey!” she greeted, appearing more bubbly than usual. “Didn’t expect to see you up for another hour at least.”

Jude hummed in response, sauntering toward the kitchen. On the counter, beside the stove, sat a Dunkin’ Donuts box that contained a dozen donuts, coated in vanilla icing and doused with sprinkles. There was also a small gift bag stuffed with tissue paper, reading _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_ in bold, colorful caps across the front, and a red balloon attached to its handle. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“Breakfast!” 

With her jaw set and her gaze on the arrangement still, Jude crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “Huh, I see…” She snorted and glimpsed Vivi from over her shoulder: her expression read guilty as charged. “And the rest?” 

Her feigned ignorance pushed aside, Vivi smiled. “For you, obviously. Unless you let someone glamour you to forget what day it is.” Leaning forward, she put her mug down on the coffee table and rose from the recliner. “Happy birthday.” 

Jude rolled her eyes but welcomed her sister’s embrace. She wished Taryn - her other half, her twin - was here so she could hug and tell her the same. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other or exchanged letters since Jude came to Bar Harbor with Vivi. Not hearing from Taryn hurt worse than it did when she drove a dagger through her hand to prove her loyalty to Dain. “You didn’t have to do this,” she admonished, a hint of annoyance threaded in her words. 

Vivi scrunched her nose. “Of course I did. You’re my sister. And you only turn eighteen once.” 

“We haven’t celebrated our birthdays since mom and dad died.”

Vivi frowned, but she didn’t deny it. Nothing had been the same after Madoc came barging into the Duarte’s homestead, roughly ten years earlier, and yanked the rug out from underneath Jude and her sisters. Vivi became obsessed with hating his guts and defied him every chance she got, while Jude and Taryn focused on their studies and training in swordsmanship—and surviving Cardan and his minions’ cruel pranks. 

Plus, for the majority of folk there, age was merely a number. Another year in life down, and an eternity to go. 

“I know,” Vivi assured softly as Jude turned around and helped herself to a donut. “It’s just...You wanted to come back here to start over and you’ve been a Debbie Downer ever since. If this has to do with what happened to Sophie, Jude, it _wasn’t_ your fault. You tried—.”

“To help her,” finished Jude, leaning back against the counter, facing her sister, a plump decadent of sugar and yeast topped with sprinkles in hand. “And she begged me not to.” 

Vivi sighed. “I’m just trying to help,” she said, exasperated. “You clam up about everything nowadays and I can never tell what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

Scoffing, Jude bit into her donut. She came here to avoid a future of becoming Madoc 2.0 and found herself right back in the midst of it all a few weeks later. Fitting in here wasn’t easy. Flipping burgers and shuffling fries at a fast food joint wasn’t exactly her forte. Cashiering was a big, fat no. Folding clothes and plastering fake smiles on her face till it ached eliminated retail. 

Then, she met Bryern, the jobs that he offered required every skill she already possessed. Everything Madoc had taught her. Everything the Roach had taught her. Everything she had trained for during those years of wanting to become a knight and serve the High King. It turns out that running from the person destiny wanted you to be was impossible. 

A lesson she apparently needed to learn the hard way.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to fill Vivi in on her secrets—she _couldn’t._ The geas put upon her by Prince Dain forbid her from spilling information regarding her involvement with the Court of Shadows. Hell, she couldn’t even tell her sister how she’d betrayed the future High King by breaking the oath she swore to him. 

Admittedly, she was terrified, yet surprised, at the same time, that the prince hadn’t issued orders for her death. The chances of her being assassinated the minute she returned to Elfhame were significant and provided her ample reason to stay here. She missed Taryn. She missed Oak, including the absurd things he made her do for his own enjoyment. She missed…

She missed the magic. 

“I know you do,” said Jude, swallowing her food. “I’m sorry. But, you know I’d tell you if it was something I didn’t think I could handle myself.” 

Silence fell inside the kitchen as Vivi considered her, and it wasn’t what Jude would consider a lie either. She’d let a skewed version of the truth slip, eventually. Just enough to pacify inquiring minds. “Alright…” Vivi conceded. Taking a breath, she advanced toward the fridge. “On a lighter note, what are we doing today? We could be bold and go through some novelty shops, rent us a bunch of dirty movies? Oh!” Pausing for dramatic effect, with a hand gripping the handle, she flashed her sister a mischievous grin. “I could buy us some cheap wine-in-the-box while we indulge and watch really bad porn on Skinemax.” 

Jude snorted, her mouth stuffed with donut again. Chewing quickly, she swallowed it then said, “I’m heading out for my morning run here in a little bit. Then I’m all yours for the day.”

“I’m holding you to that, and you better not bail. Who knows...” Vivi shrugged, opening the refrigerator door to retrieve coffee creamer from the top shelf. “Maybe we’ll finally find your pre-destined Prince Charming while we’re out.” 

Stifling a groan, Jude shoved the remaining donut chunk into her mouth and moved to grab a mug from the cupboard behind her. “I never should’ve told you about that,” she groused, though her response came out as garbled nonsense from all the grub packed in her cheeks. It seemed Vivi loved reminding her she had a soulmate whenever opportunity knocked.

Maybe because Vivi was the only person Jude had mentioned it to. 

“What?” Vivi chortled, playfully nudging Jude’s bicep with a bony elbow before depositing the creamer carton onto the counter. “I think it’s really sweet. Everyone has a soulmate. Granted, I don’t have a cool mark like you do but...I like to think Heather is mine. She makes me feel special without knowing who or _what_ I am. She gets me, and I want you to be happy with someone who was made to get you.”

At that, Vivi took the mug from Jude’s grasp and started fixing her latte, the way she always did when it was just the two of them in the mornings. Despite her sister thinking it was a good idea to keep her true self and the life she’d had in Elfhame hidden from Heather, Jude hoped she would reconsider. One day. 

Then again, she was certainly no expert in being truthful, let alone knowing how to make a healthy relationship work with anyone. Her brief fling with Locke didn’t count. 

Rolling up the cuffs on her sleeves so she could wash the sticky donut glaze from her fingers at the sink revealed Jude’s unique marks on her left wrist, a constellation of blemishes, their pigmentation shades lighter than her fair skin. She’d first noticed them while bathing on the night of her sixteenth birthday, each no bigger than an eraser on a pencil: three created a steeple at the top and a trio rendered the base, and a lone star (or so she liked to call it) branched off from a point at the bottom left corner. Lucky for her, she’d paid attention to her celestial instructor enough to identify the shape of whom it was. 

Ophiuchus, known as the 'serpent bearer’ in Greek mythology. 

If she held the bearer, her soulmate must have borne the mark of Ophiuchus’ slithery comrade, Serpens. She couldn't be a hundred percent positive that was the case, but it made sense if the universe had a slight fondness for riddles. Like the fae, whose rulers were connected to the land and sea. 

Jude winced, her thumb massaging the emerald Dawn dish soap over her mark. Being the other half of someone’s soul would have been nice if she had a manual stating how to _f_ _ind_ your soulmate. It had been two years since fate etched their hearts in the stars. So far, she was still alone. Unless he (or she) didn’t want to be found…

Not that she blamed them. She was a hot mess. 

“Glad one of us is staying optimistic for the team,” she muttered acrimoniously under her breath. Rinsing the soap off her hands, she cleared her throat and killed the tap water, grabbing a nearby towel. “Where is Heather anyway?”

“Making a Starbucks run,” Vivi affirmed, chucking a now empty creamer carton into the trashcan behind her. “Yours took the last of the creamer.” 

_What a saint._

“Remind me to thank her later,” said Jude, tossing the towel she had used to dry her hands onto the counter in exchange for her mug. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes, basking in its warmth and jubilant effects. God forbid though should she go a day without it. Headaches from caffeine withdrawal were awful! Worse than coming down from those damn faerie fruit highs. 

Okay, maybe not quite as bad as faerie fruit. The consequences were less embarrassing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t forget to open your present,” Vivi said, sliding the untouched gift bag across the counter toward Jude, particles of her long-lost inner child emanating from the urgency in her tone. The least Jude could do, she supposed, was humor her sister and pretend she liked whatever gift she’d bought. 

Carefully, Jude set her mug down on the countertop, next to her present, and began rifling through the wads of tissue paper Vivi had shoved inside it. The anticipation of what she may find was like dipping her hand into murky river water, expecting a nixie or a creature as equally terrible to bite her. But it wasn’t one of those water-dwelling, amphibious-looking demons she discovered at the bottom. 

Cutting Vivi a sharp look, Jude pulled the mint-colored iPhone out of the bag, equipped with her own set of earbuds. “You can’t be serious…” 

“You needed something besides that old fossil you’ve been using. Time to get in touch with the twenty-first century, Jude! I even took the liberty of loading it with some of your favorite songs. So now you can actually listen to music whenever you run or practice forms,” Vivi bristled, clearly pleased with herself. “You’re welcome.”

“Dare I ask how much I’m in debt to you?” 

“Okay, first off, this is why it’s called a gift,” she explained, adding emphasis on the word _gift_ using air quotes. “You don’t owe me anything. And secondly, I may or may not have used a little glamoured money. So it’s not like we’re going bankrupt.”

Jude’s mouth dropped open. She knew Vivi was aware that she despised the use of glamoured money. If they couldn’t afford it, they wouldn't buy it. Period. And flashing large sums of rotten maple leaves disguised as cash in public would surely boomerang back and bite them in the ass someday. 

Vivi rolled her golden feline eyes and huffed, arms folding over her chest. “Look, if it bothers you that much you can pay me back by adding some contacts in that empty phonebook of yours. You know, like, actually _engage_ with the locals here?” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

Vivi, seemingly unfazed by her sister’s scorn, spun on a heel and strode to her recliner in the living room. “You’re welcome!” she hollered.

Jude grunted, following to the sofa, her coffee mug and new phone in hand. If she had to be honest, she loved her present. She really did. But she also needed Vivi to understand that what she did was wrong. That didn’t mean she couldn’t show a little enthusiasm about it, right?

Needless to say, this iPhone was way more advanced than her dinosaur flip-phone. There was voice recognition and this feature called _Siri_ that could tell her the temperature outside if she asked, and Google topics for answers she wanted to know. The App Store held a vast assortment of games to download, and her iTunes was fully loaded with songs, as Vivi had promised. Bands that ranged from Florence & the Machine to Halsey and Taylor Swift, and a song she hadn’t heard since she was a kid, since her mom was alive, from The Beatles. 

_Hey, Jude._

A knot swelled in her throat, heavy and jagged to swallow. Vivi must have seen the blatant shock on Jude’s face, the moisture causing her eyes to glisten and sparkle, and realized the source. Because she was on the sofa, putting her mug on the coffee table so its content didn’t spill, hugging her, before Jude could even sing the first block of lyrics to herself in her head. It was the only piece she had left of her mother that hadn’t faded from her memory as time carried forth. 

> _Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad_
> 
> _Take a sad song and make it better_
> 
> _Remember to let her into your heart_
> 
> _Then you can start to make it better_

“I love you,” Vivi whispered, pulling away, she caught her sister’s gaze, her eyes glassy too. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and Taryn when you guys were growing up. I hated him. I hated Madoc so much that I lost focus on those who mattered most to me, and I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry, Jude.”

Jude nodded and released a shuddered breath, averting her blurred vision to the screen in her palm, the song title still displayed. She wasn’t a crier, didn’t cry the night her parents were stolen from her. And while that remained the case, she had come to accept Madoc as her father. Unlike Vivi. He’d raised her and Taryn in spite of them not being his biological flesh and blood, loved them, in a fucked up kind of way, and a part of her did love _him_. 

There was also a part of her that wanted to see him burn. 

“I’m gonna go run,” Jude sniffed, exiting iTunes and shutting her phone off, dropping it onto the sofa. Vivi flinched as if she had been physically struck. However, saying _I love you,_ three of the least complex words that existed in the English dictionary, was like asking her to say _supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_ in a wholly different language. They were terms that hadn’t been uttered by a single person under Madoc’s roof in—

—Jesus, years? If ever?

Perhaps it was best that she and her soulmate hadn’t met. If she couldn’t tell her family she loved them, how did she expect herself to say it to someone else? 

Standing, Jude put her half-empty mug in the kitchen sink and retreated to the bathroom, leaving Vivi behind on the sofa. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, letting the water droplets camouflage the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Maybe it was from having to suppress her emotions for all those years back in Elfhame, and they were boiling over. Fear was perceived as a weakness for the mortals in Faerie, the folk would have undoubtedly used that vulnerability against her. 

To survive there, one had to become something worse. Heartless. As cold as monsters depicted in fables. 

But here, she needed to remember that being human wasn’t a crime. She could feel angry, sad. She could be terrified and scream at movies that scared the living daylights out of her. No matter how stupid they were. She could be a sister, a friend. She needed to remember she was free to love again. 

She had to pull herself together, blow off steam. Breathe. Get some fresh air before the stale oxygen suffocated her and caused her to shrivel to a pulp. 

In her bedroom, she changed into her usual running attire: a black sports bra and ankle-length leggings, running shoes, and a salmon fleece, pullover hoodie (the kind with slits cut in the sleeves for your thumbs to slide through) which partially concealed the sheathed dagger she wore holstered at her waist. Her warm-up stretches, she opted to do those in the front lawn. 

The television was off when she walked out. Vivi was in the kitchen, her backside to Jude, texting on her phone. _Probably Heather,_ she assumed. Quietly, she grabbed her present from where she’d left it facedown on the cushion. “Still on for this afternoon?”

Vivi stiffened, then she turned her head and looked at Jude, solemnly. She was preparing herself for the fallout before a wan smile emerged on her sister’s lips. “Don’t do anything that’ll get you arrested,” she advised, a brow furrowed. “I may just leave you there overnight.”

Jude laughed, worrying her lower lip beneath a canine. “I’ll try. Thank you. For this,” she said, waving her phone for Vivi to see. “For the songs. Especially the songs.”

Vivi bowed her head. “Have fun.”

Jude returned the smile. “Always do,” she said, shoving her phone inside her sweater pouch as she ambled toward the entryway. She opened the door and instantly froze, gasping at whom she found waiting in the hallway outside their apartment. 

For a fleeting moment, she couldn’t decide who, between the two of them, was more stunned to see the other before his expression steeled. 

“Cardan…?” she breathed, uttering his name in a voice no louder than a whisper. It _couldn’t_ be him. She had to force her eyelids to blink to confirm whether he was real or not. Because the Cardan Greenbriar she knew back in Elfhame, the youngest and cruelest Prince of Faerie, would never set foot in the mortal world, wearing clothes as casual as a plain white t-shirt beneath a charcoal peacoat, dark skinny jeans, and a smokey grey scarf wrapped around his neck. 

But those eyes, black as ink pools, shallow yet bottomless in their depths, they were eyes she was all too familiar with. His crow black hair hung in soft curls, framing razor-sharp cheekbones. His face—Gods, she hated that beautiful face of his, perfect even without paint and glitter. She hated that he was still capable of stealing the breath from her lungs. 

Cardan’s mouth twisted into a wicked smirk. “Hello, Jude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kicking off the new fic with a cliffy, already. ;) I'd love to hear your headcanons for these two. Who knows, I just may use a couple in future chapters!
> 
> Now to find out what Cardan needs...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO MUCH for the amazing comments on the first chapter! <3 So long as my muse sticks with me I'll be updating this story on a regular basis. I do have some mini fics that I'll be posting for [Jurdan Week](https://jurdannet.tumblr.com/post/613493354747002880/in-celebration-of-our-high-king-and-queen-were) in May on Tumblr. Be sure to subscribe to me here on AO3 so you don't miss them. :) 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to @mysweetvillain for making the incredible edit for this chapter!! Also, feel free to come bug me over on [Tumblr](https://nite0wl29.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nite0wl29).

Cardan was clearly amused by Jude’s loss for words. It would have been nice to say the feeling was mutual but her head was still spinning from the shock of seeing him there. Her mouth was struggling to articulate insults bigger than a syllable and she yearned to slap that stupid Cheshire grin off his face. 

She felt paralyzed, absent from her body and mind. If it weren’t for the geas’ magic shielding her from faerie glamour, she thought Cardan might have enchanted her. Unless karma had found a loophole and nipped her in the bud for all those times she humiliated him during class, she doubted he had done so by saying hello to her. 

Jude blinked again, thrice to be sure she was wide awake, and saw Cardan’s onyx eyes staring deep into her lovely browns. It seemed as if she was floating in the vacuum of outer space when in reality her feet were firmly planted on earth. A ferocious fire blazed in the center of his pupils, emitting a warmth similar to twin suns in the Sahara Desert. Circling their fiery cores was an arctic cold that made her knees tremble and shake. 

Oh, this was bad. 

This was _very, very_ bad. 

This was Cardan, also, dangerous and painfully beautiful to a fault. Why he was here, though, Jude had deduced a few plausible reasons. Either Dain had sent him to bring her back to Elfhame for sentencing, or he was here at the expense of his own affairs; perhaps knowing she was the cause of Valerian’s death. She could pry him for answers. Lying went against his nature as a fae, he’d have to be honest with her. 

_Kill him,_ intuition advised her instead. _Kill him before they turn you into compost and sprinkle your ashes in the palace gardens._

Given the hour on a weekday, the majority of residents in her building were at work. The apartment to her left was vacant and a janitor’s closet occupied space to her right. There was a stairwell approximately seven doors down the hallway, a quick jog around the corner, next to the elevator. Once she had his body outside, her freedom of Cardan lay beyond finding the nearest dumpster bin. She could go about her morning then and act as though she hadn’t just committed murder, and celebrate her birthday in peace. 

It was a solid plan, and Jude felt confident she could get away with it so long as she was careful and didn’t leave blood trails on the carpet; that was if push comes to shove and she needed her dagger to finish him. Except, there was still one issue breathing down her neck that made her refrain from reaching for the fringe on Cardan’s scarf and strangling him to death. 

_Vivienne._

Jude tightened her grip on the doorknob, turning her knuckles white. Alas, violent acts were frowned upon here in the mortal world. She needed to revert to Plan B. Do what people normally did whenever unwelcome visitors showed up on their doorstep—unless said visitor was a Girl Scout selling delicious Peppermint Patties and Caramel deLites. But Cardan wasn’t a Girl Scout. And they weren’t in Elfhame anymore. Being polite to him wasn’t required. Neither was bowing before him or having to follow his every command. 

Gritting her teeth, Jude slammed the door in his face with a harrumph and marched back over to the sofa. Her morning run would have to wait till he was gone. “I hate him,” she snarled, her words dripping with venom. This had to be a trick, the dealings of a higher power who got his jollies got off by watching her suffer. She was already in need of a do-over for the day and it wasn’t even ten o’clock. Furious, she plopped down on a cushion and withdrew her phone from her sweater. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.”

“Jude?” Vivi called, emerging from the kitchen with her arms folded over her chest. “I swear I just heard voices. Why aren’t you—” Knocking on the front door intercepted her query, and she raised a perfectly-groomed, inquisitive brow at her sister. “Who’s here?”

Jude shrugged, her almond eyes trained on the Apple logo on her screen. “Jehovah’s witness, I think.”

The rapping on the door continued, accompanied by the muffled demands of an agitated Cardan. “Jude! I’m not in the mood for these games of yours. Open the door!”

Jude smirked. For once they had something in common. She wondered how long he had been waiting out there and whether he would have continued waiting if she hadn’t opened the door. Whatever Cardan wanted from her, he must have been desperate. It was daylight out and he should have been asleep with the rest of the fae.

_Huh..._

However, Vivi wasn’t keen on sharing Jude’s humor. There was a reason she knew of Cardan’s tail that he hid beneath his clothes and Jude hadn’t until several months earlier when Vivi went swimming with him and his friends. Vivi and Cardan had always been cordial with one another, compared to the hostility he showed Taryn and Jude.

She shuddered as the image of him swimming in the lake invaded her thoughts, tail thrashing above the water like a serpent with a tuft of inky hair adorning its end, as Vivi had explicitly described to her then. It was an image she preferred not to think about ever again. 

_Never. Never ever._

“Oh, my God,” Vivi drawled. Jude didn’t need to see her expression to tell she was horrified. “Tell me that is _not_ who I think it is.” 

“That’s not who you think it is,” Jude repeated flatly, surfing various games in the App Store.

“Holy shit, Jude, he’s _the prince!_ You can’t just ignore him!”

Jude snorted. “What’s he gonna do, banish me?”

“Jude!” Again, Cardan’s fist banged on the door. “I know you can hear me!”

Jude’s smile grew. Apart from being a gifted liar, she’d made a career out of pissing off others. Pissing off Cardan was like shopping Chanel while folk she’d offended in the past were Target dollar deals. 

He was flint; she was tinder. One of these days, that spark between them would ignite a wildfire. That was if she didn’t stab him for being a royal pain in the ass.

“This is childish. Even for you,” Vivi chided, muttering something unintelligible. Crossing the living room, she opened the door for their guest. Jude dug her heels into the carpet to stop herself from tackling her. 

“Prince Cardan,” Vivi greeted sweetly. So sweet that Jude was certain her molars had produced cavities from inhaling the same air as her sister. “You’ll have to please excuse my sister. I swear Jude was raised to have better manners than this.” Jude suddenly became aware that she now had two pairs of eyes boring into the back of her skull, and she willed herself not to turn and look.

“I expected nothing less,” Cardan responded coolly. “She has always been quite the little insurgent. Am I right, Jude?”

Jude clenched her hand and closed her eyes, fighting the urge to fly off the sofa and smash his inhumanly, handsome face with her fist. Here, that was assault and battery, and punching him for annoying her was, according to the police, _not a reasonable excuse._ She knew this because she popped a guy square in the nose after he asked for her phone number a few weeks ago at the mall. 

Jude heaved a sigh, wishing it was possible to sink farther into the sofa and vanish from this world altogether. “What do you want, Cardan?” 

A _click_ from the hallway thermostat punctuated the excruciating minute of silence. Cardan was quiet. Too quiet for Jude’s comfort. That spiked her nervousness more than crossing the street on her bicycle during noon rush-hour traffic. Her fingers were itching to reach for the dagger at her hip, for security, when she remembered Vivi was in the room with them.

“I’m here on behalf of the High King,” Cardan said finally, his velvety timbre cleaving all the pent-up tension in the room like a machete. “All I am asking is for you to put aside our prior grievances and lend me a few minutes of your time.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. But I would not have come if I hadn’t better options.” 

Scoffing at her phone in defeat Jude rose and faced him. On the foyer’s linoleum tiles, Cardan stood totem-like with both hands buried inside his coat pockets, surveying his surroundings. As if he was fascinated by their lifestyle here. Then, his eyes landed on Jude and his wonder regressed to shame before he sobered. At Cardan’s left, Vivi caught her attention with a wave, indicating to the kitchen that she was giving them privacy. Apparently, Jude’s mind had been made up for her...

Crossing her arms, Jude fixed him with a hard glare. “Five minutes. Mind you, I’m being generous cause it’s more than what I think you really deserve. So I suggest that you start talking.” 

Cardan furrowed his brow. “You want to do it...here?”

She nodded and fired back, “Sorry my council chamber doesn’t exceed your expectations. Us mortal folk have to make do with what little we have. And in case you aren’t keeping track, you should know your allotted time is ticking.” Quickly, she peered down at her phone for the time. “Four minutes, by the way.” 

Cardan stared at her incredulously and for a second she thought he might cooperate. “My sweet nemesis,” he rasped, advancing slowly till he stood at arm’s length from Jude. “If I may say, it appears you’ve forgotten that following orders has never been my strong suit.” 

Jude gave him a long look, and it took every last bit of restraint in her arm not to chuck her phone at his head when she glimpsed the barest hint of a smirk curling his lips. Treating him for your average intellectual person was as fruitless as giving a stone statue a psych test. But he wasn’t stupid, and she would be stupid not to see the direction he was going with this. Cardan was clever and infuriatingly unpredictable. 

Unluckily, for him, so was she. 

To best a fae at his own game, you needed to bump things up a notch. Play dirty, if you will. And Jude would much rather kiss her humanity goodbye (along with every chance of her soulmate thinking her totally sane if they happened to meet) than to let Cardan Greenbriar exert power over her here in the mortal world. 

Her bedroom was the only room in the apartment where they could...chat...without hindrance from Vivi. The intimate undertones of that arose unbidden to her thoughts and she immediately quashed them before Cardan noticed her cheeks were vivid shades of scarlet. Casually, she tossed her phone onto the rumpled bedding, kicking a polka-dotted bra and navy panties she’d spotted laying in plain view under the bed, and removed her dagger from its leather sheath while Cardan had his back to her, shutting the door. 

He spun to address her but the words died on his tongue, heeding the blade of Jude’s dagger aimed for his throat, an array of emotions warring for dominion over his face. From notable anger to fear. That glint of disappointment thrown in the blender, though, was decidedly unexpected. “Jude…” he frowned.

In the number of years she had known Cardan, this was the most she had heard him use her name. She couldn’t decide which infuriated her more: the heat stirring in the pit of her abdomen because of it, or the way he was looking at her now. “Don’t act so surprised,” Jude hissed. “Why are you here? Was it Dain who put you up to this?”

Cardan blinked, visibly confused. “What?” 

“Your _brother,_ Cardan,” she snapped, his incompetence fueling her rage. “Honest to God do I have to remind you who your family is?” Not offering him a chance to reply Jude pressed her hand free of the dagger to his chest and drove him back against the bedroom door, causing him to grunt upon impact and his dark eyes to widen. Her palm remained in place, digits splayed out on his shirt which covered the lean muscle beneath her fingertips. “In case I haven’t made it clear to you already, I was having a pretty shitty morning _before_ you arrived.” As she spoke, she maneuvered the blade till it set horizontal beneath his jaw, plying the subtlest bit of pressure to his skin. “Answer me honestly. Did Dain send you here?”

Cardan sneered. Gazing down his nose at her through hooded lids and thick lashes, he acquiesced without further delay. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re referring to. Or why Dain would have held an interest in you, in the first place. But, I suppose it matters not: my brother is dead.” 

Jude nearly lost her grip on the dagger. “De-Dead? What do you mean he’s dead?”

Cardan chuckled. “Come on, Jude, you’re old enough to understand death and what it means.” His eyes fell from hers in a vain effort to inspect the dagger threatening his jugular and grimaced. “You and I, we are both adults. Is this _really_ necessary? I can show you my tail to help loosen the mood if you want.” 

A shiver ascended her spine at the thought. “Let’s not,” she clipped, ignoring his smirk. “And how about you let me do the questioning and you give the answers?”

He didn’t argue that. “The night of Dain’s coronation, my oldest brother Balekin had a coup staged to overthrow him and take the crown for himself. To make a long and grim story short, he succeeded, and our family paid the price.”

 _Our family paid the price._ What Cardan neglected to say aloud was that the entire royal family had been slaughtered, and Jude wasn’t sure how she should respond. Relieved she was no longer at risk for being executed. Guilty for abandoning Dain and those in the Court of Shadows, knowing she could have prevented the massacre or.. _.something._

Regret. 

She felt nothing but regret for leaving her home. Regret for leaving her family. Taryn. Oak. And that wasn’t even the worst part of it...

“Balekin,” she winced. Based on her first-hand experience, Jude was thoroughly well-acquainted with the eldest of the Greenbriar sibling’s brutish behavior. Her living memory from her visit to Hollow Hall that day was _here_ with her dagger held to his throat. “Balekin is the High King?” 

_No._ Cardan’s hesitancy told her otherwise. 

“I am,” he said, and Jude exhaled a cynical snort in disbelief. Because Cardan as the High King of Elfhame was just...silly. Preposterous. If that was the case, Elfhame would have been better off under Balekin’s reign. At least Balekin had taken earnest pride in his work despite his ruthless, sociopathic tendencies.

Cardan didn’t seem to share her outlook, and it wouldn’t have been the first time he had proved her wrong that morning. “You’re serious?” she blinked. 

“You can thank your father for me,” Cardan spat, lolling his head back against the door, offering a clearer view of the circles underneath his eyes. She almost pitied him. “Madoc is a clever man. I’ll give him that. He may have taught me a thing or two since he had me crowned king. Appointing him as my Seneschal was the least I could do to express my gratitude when he offered himself to the task.”

These consecutive waves of bad news were starting to make Jude dizzy. Cardan had to have been out of his mind (or drunk, probably) when he granted Madoc’s request for Seneschal. Sure, Madoc was an excellent strategist. But his love for war outshined the love he possessed for preserving the peace, peacefully. Carnage was the only language he knew how to speak fluently. _I am not a murderer,_ she recalled Cardan saying to Balekin.

Cardan and Madoc, Madoc and Cardan.

Something wasn’t adding up... 

“My, you really did go and get yourself into a pickle didn’t you,” she tsked. “Nonetheless, you haven’t answered my question.” Pushing her weight up on her tiptoes, shifting the blade so she wouldn’t cut him, Jude brought her lips closer to his. Cardan’s breath hitched in his throat and her awareness blocked out the fact that his hands were her on hips, steadying her. And maybe himself. “Why are you here?” she crooned.

Cardan swallowed. Beneath her palm, his heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's wings. “I didn’t want this,” he said, tearing his eyes away and focusing on something else in her dim room. “To rule was never an ambition of mine, and I do not think I will be good at it either. But seeing there is no escaping it, I—,” his gaze connected with hers, “I need your help.”

Her brows went up. Cardan, the former cruel prince of Elfhame, was pleading for her help. “My help?” she needled, tilting her head. “You’re asking _me_ to help _you_ with Maddoc?” When he gave no comment, Jude lowered the dagger and took half a step back from his reach, and laughed. 

And laughed.

“Give me a sec, okay,” she wheezed. “I _have_ to savor this while I can.” 

Cardan rolled his eyes, adjusting his scarf. “I am glad you find this so funny.”

“No. Funny would be getting to see you grovel on your knees.”

“Oh?” Quirking his brow, Cardan worked his bottom lip. “What else would my dearest Jude have me do?”

Deciding it was best that she not remark on his double innuendo, Jude cut straight to the point. “I want you to guarantee me a place in your court,” she said, toying with the dagger’s hilt in her grasp. “Promise me, and you will have my word that I’ll be in Elfhame tomorrow, before midday.”

Cardan nodded. “Very well. Although I’m afraid your word for me is as good as any mortal’s word.”

“I suppose that makes you the fool for believing me then, doesn’t it.”

“Am I?” he countered. “Or could it be that both of us are playing the other for a fool?”

Her sights glued on Cardan, Jude overheard hushed murmurs coming from someplace inside the apartment. She was hoping he would have been gone before Heather got home. _Shit._ “Let me put it this way,” she said, holstering her dagger and pushing past him for the door. “Double-cross me, I will not hesitate to slit your throat and leave you outback for the crows to peck your eyeballs out.” She spared a glower at him from over her shoulder, fingertips brushing the doorknob. “Understood, Your Highness?”

Not bothering to linger for Cardan’s reaction, Jude escorted him to the living room. Vivi was assisting Heather in the kitchen, putting groceries inside the fridge. Her forearms pressing a couple of Blue Bunny ice cream cartons to her sternum, the girl with faded pink hair and red frames perched on her nose turned from the farthest countertop towards the fridge. Spotting their roommate, Heather beamed excitedly. “Jude! Happy birthday!” 

“Birthday?” Cardan chimed in, pausing off to the side, behind Jude. 

“Oh!” Heather exclaimed. Rearranging the containers in her arms she extended a color-stained hand for Cardan to shake. The High King obliged. “You must be the friend of Jude’s that Vivi was telling me about. She didn’t mention your name though…?” 

“Cardan.” Jude promptly supplied, shooting her sister the stink eye. “And he’s _not_ my friend.”

“I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself, dearest Jude.” 

“Don’t you have an uber to catch?”

Cardan cocked his head, the main idea of Jude’s snippy comeback sailing clean over his curls. “What is a...uber?”

 _I am going to kill him,_ Jude pledged to herself silently.

Heather whistled. “You know, Vivi and I were gonna take Jude out for her birthday tonight. Should be fun if you get what I’m saying.” Moving to put the ice cream in the freezer, she winked discreetly at her friend. “I’m sure Jude wouldn’t care if you tagged along.”

 _Yes. Yes, I do care._ “Cardan is _very_ busy with school this semester,” Jude fibbed, aware that her skin on her face and neck were burning like hotcakes cooking on a frying pan. “With him taking extra classes and all, I’d hate to—”

“Actually, I should like to stay for these...fun festivities tonight,” Cardan said, gifting Jude the cheekiest grin his lips could have mustered. How it made her skin crawl and her heart palpitate within that moment, Jude didn’t know. And she didn’t like it. “What kind of friend would that make me if I didn’t stay?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, shucking his coat off to reveal a simple long-sleeved, alabaster shirt. “Do I?”

If Jude didn’t think she could loathe him any more than she did before today, she had been terribly mistaken. She hated that Cardan was behaving so unusually un-Cardan-like here when his vehement disdain towards the mortal race was no secret to anyone in Elfhame. She hated it was bugging her that a curly chunk of hair had fallen into his eye and that he hadn’t made the effort to push it away. She hated that he resembled a lot less of the fae she hated and more of someone she could be interested in romantic-wise. 

_Kill him,_ the voice inside her head screamed. _Kill him before he makes you fall for this side of him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how hard it was to refrain from making those two do bad things in the bedroom. But...we're suffering this slow-burn together. Though that doesn't mean I won't be throwing you bread crumbs on occasion. ;)


End file.
